The Loveliest Woman
by Baron Munchausen
Summary: Edith has a nasty shock one day when Anthony introduces her to Consuelo, Duchess of Marlborough the most beautiful woman in Europe, and "the loveliest woman I ever set eyes on".
1. Chapter 1

Edith was so excited. Anthony had been in London on business for almost five days and was coming home to Locksley tonight. She couldn't wait. It was the longest they had been apart since marrying the year before. She double checked that everything was ready: the candles, a few rose petals to spread on the bed so that it was fragrant, the housemaid knew to make up the fire there while they were eating dinner so the bedroom would be warm and welcoming afterwards. The dinner itself featured all of Anthony's favourite dishes, including Apple Charlotte.

Samson had taken Edith down to the station to meet Anthony in good time. She could hardly keep herself ladylike when the train pulled into Grantham station. She wanted to jump up and down and look for him like a little girl. At the other end of the platform, behind the clouds of steam, she saw a tall man get out of the first class carriages, but he was with another woman, so that couldn't be Anthony. But…there were no other single men…and…no!

Anthony saw Edith waiting on the station platform and walked his companion up to her, smiling in his usual amiable way.

"Edith, my dear, how lovely of you to come and meet me. Have you brought Samson, or did you drive yourself? My wife is a very accomplished driver. Let me introduce you. Edith, this is Consuelo, Duchess of Marlborough; Your Grace, may I present my wife, Lady Strallan."

The Duchess, who was a head shorter than Anthony, but at least a head taller than Edith, extended her hand to shake Edith's with a friendly but controlled smile. She was indeed as beautiful as Anthony had once described her. Edith knew that she had once been considered the most astoundingly beautiful woman in Europe, and her statuesque loveliness had not abandoned her with age. Edith was a little taken aback to be so suddenly introduced to a duchess and with so little warning, but she thought she had handled it well considering. But the surprises were not all over yet.

With a sheepish little grin, Anthony dropped the bombshell.

"I've taken the liberty of inviting Her Grace to stay for a few days, dearest. I hope that won't put out any plans."

"Not at all, it will be a pleasure." Edith's smile froze slightly. _So much for a romantic and passionate reunion_ she thought. She turned and led the little party to the waiting car.

* * *

_._

"I've heard it reported that Sir James Barrie said that he would wait all night in the rain, to see Consuelo Marlborough get into her carriage" said Anthony, at the end of a speech praising her.

"Jimmy was a darling, no pun intended. But he was also a bit of a flirt. I think he only said that to try to get me to be nice to him" replied the Duchess with neither arrogance, nor false modesty.

"I still remember meeting you at the Londonderrys' Ball in '96. I have to say I agree with Sir James" fawned Anthony.

"Well, one doesn't keep one's looks by staying up all night. If you'll excuse me Lady Strallan, Sir Anthony, I think I'll retire. Thank you, my dear, for the most delicious dinner. The Apple Charlotte was wonderful."

"Thank you, Your Grace. I will be sure to tell Mrs Rich. She will be pleased."

There was an awkward silence once Consuelo had left the room.

"I'm sorry to have dropped this on you, my dear. There was no way I could let you know in advance. She…well, I met her a couple of days ago at a dinner, and then this morning…well her coming to stay was only a last minute decision" Anthony stuttered.

"I had planned things to welcome you home" Edith began in a moderately hurt voice.

"I know…and that Apple Charlotte was gorgeous; a very kind thought, thank you."

"There's more in the bedroom, if you too would like an early night?" Edith bowed her head shyly but then raised her eyes flirtatiously, hopefully.

"Oh, an early night would be wonderful, my dear, I'm so very tired. London is so noisy these days, that even once you've got away from some dinner or other, you still can't get to sleep because of all the cars and things. I'm longing for a quiet night."

_And that's the end of that_ thought Edith.

"Then you shall have a quiet night, my love" she said in a tone more acidic than she intended "and I will sleep in my own room to ensure it. Good night."

With that she too left an astonished Anthony by himself.

* * *

_._

For the first time in her married life, Edith did not come down to breakfast. She asked her maid to bring her a tray in her room. She just couldn't bear to watch Anthony go all puppy-dog again over That Woman (as Edith had begun to think of Her Grace).

She had spent a bad night worrying. At dinner she'd been embarrassed by Anthony's obvious admiration of Consuelo. What made it worse was it was justified. The Duchess _was_ the most beautiful woman she'd ever met. She was more regally beautiful than Mary and yet somehow more smoulderingly sultry than Sybil, and Edith, like many, many women before her, hated Consuelo for it. After dinner she'd been annoyed at the wrecking of her plans to seduce her husband and enjoy his homecoming. But once she was in bed, alone again for the first time since leaving Downton, in the dark, she began having very frightening thoughts. Had Consuelo seduced Anthony in London? Were there other reasons to explain why he seemed to have only eyes for her? Had they had intimate relations in years gone by, and this was a meeting of old flames? Uppermost in her mind was one question: _why was she here?_

When Edith did go downstairs, the breakfast had been cleared away and there was no sign of either Anthony or Consuelo.

"Oakley, do you know where Sir Anthony is?"

"I believe he is taking a turn around the grounds with Her Grace, my lady" the old butler answered.

Edith thought for a moment.

"Has the Duchess visited Locksley before?"

"Not to my knowledge, my lady, and I've served here for thirty five years."

"Before I married him, did Sir Anthony often have single ladies to stay here?" Edith tried not to let her real meaning show too obviously, but wanted Oakley to know what she was asking.

Oakley straightened himself a little.

"Never! Since the first Lady Strallan died, you have been the only lady, the only woman ever to visit Sir Anthony even for tea, let alone an overnight visit."

Edith sounded far away as she said "Thank you Oakley". But the butler wasn't quite done.

"With respect, my lady, may I reassure you that Sir Anthony is what might be called a One Woman Man."

"We're all capable of change though, aren't we, especially when confronted with 'The Most Beautiful Woman in Europe'?" Edith muttered before retreating into the Library.

Oakley shook his head sadly. _The young ones are so prey to their emotions_ he thought, _but I've done what I could. The master's on his own for this one._

_._

* * *

**_I sort of promised that the next story would be _After the Ball is Over, _but I hope you don't mind having this little one in the meantime. It was inspired by what Anthony said in the 'lost' scene where he says he "first met the Duchess of Marlborough at a ball of Lady Londonderry's in '96. She was the loveliest woman I ever set eyes on." Consuelo, Duchess of Marlborough was considered to be the most beautiful woman in Europe. She was American born, like Cora, and her marriage to the Duke of Marlborough was an arranged and unhappy one. That's her portrait up there. You can read more about her in Wikipedia._  
**


	2. Chapter 2

Luncheon was strained. The ladies said little: Edith was worried and awkward; Consuelo, a mixture of embarrassment and polite withdrawal. Anthony tried to keep a conversation going with what turned out to be almost a monologue concerning the orchards, the estate, the weather, and anything else that popped into his head that he thought would offend neither Consuelo nor Edith. Immediately after the meal, Consuelo rose and excused herself saying she had some urgent correspondence to finish.

Anthony and Edith sat in a pained silence for what seemed an eternity.

"Edith, I…" Anthony began without preface, and then stopped just as abruptly. He looked up and saw her watching him with such hurt in her eyes and knew she would hear him out no matter how long it took him to find the right words. He thought she was only worried that he was keeping her in the dark, and he so wanted to tell her everything, and set her mind at rest.

"Edith, I know I have been thoughtless and wrong towards you by bringing Consuelo here without your permission or knowledge. You've been absolutely marvellous welcoming her here, and I thank you for it, and I so want to tell you what's going on, I really do, but Consuelo made me promise not to tell you: she's terrified of the newspapers, you see. They've treated her – and her husband – very badly recently with the divorce and everything, and when she found out about your column... I don't think you would tell your newspaper friends or _anyone_ anything if I told you what Consuelo has planned. I don't believe that for one minute. For what it's worth, I don't think Consuelo believes it either. But neither of us wishes to put you in a position where you know something and, should you be asked about it, you would either have to lie or break confidence. Truly that is all! Please don't worry, my dear!"

It all came out in a rush of guilt and remorse. Anthony looked pleadingly at Edith wanting her to reply, shout at him, pound his head with her fists, anything! Instead she stood and quietly, clearly, and with a heartbroken, sad resignation, said "I understand" and quit the room, leaving him alone: a situation that was becoming painfully common for him.

_So there is something afoot, and Anthony is part of it and I am not_ she thought as she made her way upstairs to her dressing room. _There is only one thing that it could be. They are lovers and she needs to get away from London because of the Press, so he's brought her here to plan where they go next. He told me once how he admired her when they were both young. Now they've met again in London and she is free. He isn't, but that isn't going to stop them. He's been married to me for less than a year, and I'm not a duke or duchess. The scandal would be less. Can I blame him? She's nearer to his age, they share so much more…and she's so much more beautiful than I am, more stunningly beautiful even than Mary and I was never any match even for her…It's just a tragedy of timing that she wasn't divorced before Anthony and I finally got our act together. Nothing more._

She managed to keep the tears back until she reached her dressing room. She locked the door and only then let them fall as she gave in to the sobs. Within minutes there was a soft knocking at her door.

"Edith?" She didn't answer him, but she did stop crying.

"Edith, my love, please?"

She crept to the door as quietly as she could, laying her hands on the wood, hoping that he would have his hands there on the other side and she just wanted to _feel_ him there.

"My sweet one?" his voice was breaking, as though he too was fighting the need to weep. _He called me his sweet one_. She listened to his breathing, and the creaking of the floorboards outside her room, desperately wanting to open the door and fall into his embrace. She wanted to say to him _I love you, I love you so much, just come back to me, please, and I'll forgive you everything, anything!_ But no words would come. He coughed to clear the emotion from his throat.

"I'll be in the Library if you want…me."

* * *

_._

It was during dinner, which was another wretched shared silence, that the telephone call came. Consuelo and Anthony exchanged alarmed looks immediately it began to ring. When Oakley came into the dining room, Consuelo was out of her chair almost before the old butler had had time to tell her it was for her.

Anthony smiled a weary, sad little smile.

Edith was feeling a little braver by now, and more resigned.

"I take it this is a call that was expected?"

"Probably. I mean, if it is that one, yes" he answered mildly. They continued eating in silence until Consuelo returned, flushed with happiness.

"The day after tomorrow!" she gasped, trotting up to the table and beaming at them both, more relaxed and informal than she had been at any time since she arrived.

"That's very good news" Anthony answered, before he was almost smothered and very much taken aback by Consuelo hugging him in her joy.

Edith stood and composed herself with all the dignity she could muster.

"I am very happy for you" she said, struggling to keep her voice level. She had meant the 'you' to cover them both, but Consuelo turned and hugged her too, to Edith's amazement.

"Whatever you ask of me, I will do without murmur. I want it all to be as quick and painless as possible. But I do ask one thing in return: please, Anthony, Consuelo, don't kiss or hug in my presence again. I can't bear it. I'm sorry." The pain was forcing tears to her eyes again, and she couldn't control it. She hurried out.

"Edith?" Anthony said after her but was ignored. He turned to Consuelo urgently.

"Please, _please_, let me tell her. She doesn't know what's happening here! She's confused and…"

"…and jealous, Anthony" the Duchess said baldly.

"Jealous?" His razor sharp brain was blunt as stone for once.

"She thinks you and I are running away and having an affair. Trust me, I've seen this often before."

"No! Edith wouldn't…she has no reason…but I'm…she can't…" Through the haze, the truth suddenly hit him like a cricket bat between the eyes. Without another word or thought about Consuelo, he followed Edith out of the dining room. He stood in the hall, panicked, trying to think where she would go when Oakley returned from the kitchen with the next course. The old butler pointed wordlessly at the Library door and retreated back to keep the food warm.

Anthony ran to the door and threw it open to see Edith weeping uncontrollably on the chaise longue. He sprinted over to her, not bothering to shut the door, and threw himself on the floor at her feet.

"You once called me lovely here, in this room! And now…" she managed between sobs.

"And you are, my darling! My sweet one! My dearest love! My wife! If you still want to be my wife…"

"Of course I do, Anthony. I love you!" She turned to him, her face drowning in tears, and he knelt up to her, clutching her to him desperately.

"I love you too! I love you so much. I'm so, so sorry. I had no idea that you thought…Consuelo is an old friend…an awkward friend, it's true, because the friendship was formed when I was young and had a terrible crush on her, I admit that. We've met only about five or six times over the years since, but she trusts me, God knows why. She trusted me enough to tell me that, now her divorce has come through, she is going to marry her lover, a Frenchman. She came to me the day I returned here saying she needed somewhere to go to meet him away from the prying eyes of the Press, and I offered Locksley because I'm a damned fool playing at being chivalrous. Anyway, you heard the news. This Frenchman, Balsan his name is, is coming to fetch her the day after tomorrow. They'll go to France via Hull and marry there. That way they'll get some privacy. God knows, she's had little enough of it in her life. There! I should have told you right at the very beginning. I should have insisted that she told you. I knew you were upset but I didn't have the faintest idea it was because…I still don't really believe that _you could be jealous of __me_."

"Of course I'm jealous, Anthony, you idiot!" Edith hugged him all the more but she almost screamed at him in her annoyance. "She's my worst nightmare! She's Mary all over again! Challenging me to a duel I knew I would lose! Taking away everything I care about: the man I love, the man who loves me or so I thought!"

"Oh God, Edith!" moaned Anthony, wrapping his arm around her fiercely again. "I am so terribly sorry. But there is no reason for you to fear. I'm an old codger with a crippled arm, for heaven's sake. I'll never understand what you see in me…and you think I'm a sweet danger to the Duchess of Marlborough?! It's preposterous!"

"It isn't preposterous, Anthony. You never believe me when I tell you that you are the most charming, modest, lovable, sweet, gallant, chivalrous, and devastatingly handsome man on this earth, and I love you because of it! And if I can see that in you, I'm sure other women can too. I had _every_ reason to fear. Because if I lost you, I don't know what I would do, I don't think I could carry on."

Anthony looked at her with shocked and serious eyes.

"Nor I you" he whispered. "But you haven't lost me. I know I've hurt you, and I humbly ask your forgiveness, but you haven't lost me. Never."

He leant forward and kissed her hard as she cast her arms about his neck and lost herself in him gratefully.

Consuelo, who had been watching from the open door for the last minute or so, turned quietly and returned to the dining room, smiling.

* * *

_._

Their last dinner together was much more relaxed. Consuelo had apologised to Edith for being so secretive. Edith had said nothing mattered except that Anthony loved her, and that Consuelo's own story had a happy ending. Edith asked Consuelo about Lieutenant Colonel Jacques Balsan, her intended, and she was more than happy – relieved even – to tell the whole story of how he had first met and fallen in love with her at first sight when she was seventeen, twenty eight years previously. However, he was not considered good enough for her by her overbearing mother, who was determined that she should marry as high up the European aristocracy as possible, and arranged the marriage to the 9th Duke of Marlborough. Consuelo had wept all through her own wedding ceremony. Although she produced the required 'heir and a spare', the marriage was unhappy on both sides, and the Duke and she had separated in 1906 after only nine years. They had waited in vain for any interest in their private lives to die down before officially divorcing, only a few weeks before.

"So Jacques is even more patient than I am, it appears. I only had to wait eight years to marry the girl of my dreams" Anthony said, smiling lovingly at Edith. "He sounds like he could be my best brother-in-arms."

"I think you will like him. He's very French, but of the old school: all charm, bravery, and wit. He loves machines like you, but he's more enamoured of flying things, planes and so forth" said Consuelo.

"Perhaps I should flirt with him and get you both jealous as my revenge!" joked Edith.

Consuelo smiled "I know Jacques is completely faithful to me, but I warn you, my dear, he is very handsome. He has a magnificent moustache and it's a foregone prediction that he will kiss your hand at least twice and probably more."

"I've suddenly gone off this Frenchman" Anthony said, mock-hurt, to giggles from the ladies.

* * *

_._

Consuelo was right. Jacques kissed Edith's hand at least four times, and shook Anthony's more than that, thanking them for all their kindnesses to Consuelo, and allowing them a chance to make it to France unobserved by the Press. They had a delightful lunch and then Jacques and Consuelo left. Anthony and Edith watched the car wind out of Locksley's drive. Without taking his eyes off the departing vehicle Anthony said "You know, she was exceptionally beautiful when I first knew her."

Edith examined his face, her demons returning as her stomach turned cold. Then Anthony turned to her, looked deeply into her eyes and whispered "But then I was lucky; much luckier than the Duke of Marlborough, and luckier even than Monsieur Balsan."

"Really?"

"Yes, without a doubt. I married the woman I loved, I'm still in love with her, and always will be. More than that, for some unknown reason I can't fathom, despite the fact that, in her character, her bravery, her determination, her intelligence, and her physical beauty, she is the loveliest woman I ever beheld, she loves me. Somehow I managed to catch her. And if she'll let me, I will demonstrate the extent of my devotion to her tonight, if she still has those candles and rose petals and things?"

"I do" Edith whispered back, beginning to be tearful again, but from happiness.

He bent down to her and kissed her very gently.

* * *

_**Thank you for reading this. It was only a bit of fluff after the drama of the murder mystery. Thank you so much for all the reviews and everything.**_


End file.
